Taking the 110 Home

Sometimes the best part of my day is my drive home. Yeah, everybody likes to go home, but you know me, I actually enjoy what I do for a living and I also love my home life.

My drive to work is congested and I'm often stuck in traffic before (and especially) during my work day. That's rarely the case when I drive home around midnight.

A big city like Los Angeles is an amazing place and I dig the fact that I get to see so much of it.



I just wish I had the time (or energy) to explore more at the end of my day. I do have a responsibility to my employer to keep the work van safe and I have a responsibility to my family to keep ME safe.

Sometimes I do think about all the cool places I drive past as I follow my usual route home.

I'm pretty sure I'm missing something cool.

Community of Sadness

I was off work the day last week when the shooting happened in Santa Monica.

A senseless and horrible tragedy, my prayers and thoughts are with the families and friends of the victims.

 

 

It happened on a Friday and I watched very little of the coverage through the weekend, but on Monday I was right in the thick of our coverage of the aftermath.

 

 

It was interesting to me to see how some were barely affected by the event and others were experiencing what appeared to be deep shock and trauma.

 

 

It's a part of my job to cover tragedy, but I'll be honest, I wish I'd been assigned to another story.

 

 

Some days I'm better able to handle the grief and sadness of others. I was right up front next to grieving family members during the vigil held for those killed in the incident.

 

Unfortunately, I don't have the option of picking the stories I cover. If I had a choice, I would have passed on this story and let it go by without being involved.

 

 

I only say any of this because I'm just being honest about what I experience in covering the news. Still, no matter how bad my day might be, I know at the end of my shift, I'm only a witness to the grief and pain.

 

There are others and in this case many others, who aren't so lucky.

 

 

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To "Be" a Biker?

Am I a biker?

I had a great day on my motorcycle yesterday.  My lovely wife, Dellis, needed my truck for a work related function that she was in charge of organizing.  I'd be joining her later, but I had my own function to attend a little earlier in the day.  My good friend, the writer William "Buzz" Snyder, was in town to promote his latest book, "The Spirit Guide Bar" and I'd made the commitment to attend his book signing (at the Book Frog in Palos Verdes).

There was a couple of clear options for me.  I could either take my wife's car (which is okay, but, you know, just kind of routine) or I could take my motorcycle (and that would be the perfectly awesome alternative to routine).

Let me explain where I am with riding.

I've had my license for just a year (and a coupe of weeks) and I bought my Kawasaki Vulcan 900 last October.  The whole motorcycling experience is very new to me.  Heck, I'd never even ridden before I took the Basic Rider Course in order to get my license.

There are people who ride that probably don't even think about being on a bike.  It's just a natural thing for them.  I'm like that with driving a car, so I know how routine it might be.  That's not the case for me in riding a motorcycle.  Since my life never involved being on a motorcycle before and since it's still such a new experience, I really feel the difference whenever I'm riding somewhere on the bike.  Just about everybody I know has the same basic advice for me.

Be careful.

Mostly I am.  (whoa, what do you mean, mostly?)  Well, I'm very careful when I ride.  Nearly everyone I've talked to has a story of witnessing or knowing of someone who has been in a terrible motorcycle accident.  It's not inherently safe to sit on an engine with two wheels and handlebars while traveling at freeway speeds (on the actual freeway).  I really just don't want people to say things to each other after I'm gone.

"Well, he probably would have died comfortably in bed if he hadn't taken up motorcycle riding.  Who wants more pie?"

I chose the bike instead of the car.

It was time to go.  I already had my helmet and jacket and gloves on; I'd also checked my tires and inspected the bike, so I rolled it in neutral out of the garage down to the end of my driveway.  I turned the key, gave it some gas and hit the starter.  VRROOOOM.  I there and let the bike warm up.  The visor on my helmet was up and I had sunglasses on.  The street was empty.  I squeezed the clutch and stepped down into first.  Gave it a little gas, slowly released the clutch and moved forward.  I own a corner house, so I rolled maybe twenty feet to the stop sign at the end of my street, stopped and looked both ways.  Nothing was coming.  I shut my visor.  VRROOOOOOOM.

It is exciting for me.

I have neighbors who ride.  There's one who buys and sells motorcycles and I've seen him have twenty or more lined up in front of his house.  Just taking off for a ride is just simply taking off for a ride, I'm sure.  Still, I always kind of hope my neighbors see me when I leave.  I also hope I don't do something stupid.  It still always seems like that might be a possibility.

I could go on and describe every part of my ride.  I always drive the long ways around my neighborhood, just in case something is wrong (I'd rather know before I get on the freeway).  I'm pretty comfortable in traffic, but I'm not comfortable splitting lanes.  I thought I'd need to add a windshield to my bike, but I'm actually getting used to not having one.  I like giving the bike some gas when I'm riding next to a car.  Not for any reason other than to make sure the car knows I'm there.  It's all interesting to me, but I believe that's because I'm still new to it all.

I rode to Palos Verdes.  After the book signing,I went had pizza with Bill Snyder, his family and fans. Rode the bike over to Carson for Dellis' event just as the sun was starting to go down.

It was funny, nobody knew I was on a motorcycle until a security guard needed it (and another vehicle) moved out of the loading zone where I'd parked.

That seemed to cause a little bit of buzzing.  Dellis' husband rides a motorcycle.

After the event was over, I helped Dellis load up the truck and we drove home.  She drove the truck.  I was on the motorcycle.  My main thoughts were, of course, don't let me die on this motorcycle while my wife is watching.  She would probably not like seeing that happen.

"I always worried that he was going to get killed riding that motorcycle.  Is there any more pie?"

We made it safely home.  I put the bike away and just felt that the day was pretty perfect.  I got to eat drink and have fun with a lot of people who mean a lot to me.  I got to ride, maybe not as much as most have ridden in a day, but certainly as much as I've ridden.

Does that make me a biker?

I don't know.  As far as I'm concerned, I don't need any sort of label at all.  Just let me get on my bike and ride.

VRRROOOOOOOOOMMMM!

"Let's go get more pie!"

My Completely Unexpected Saturday at the Powerhouse Fire

Saturday I was working around the house and had plans for the evening.  My cell phone rang.



The call was from one of my fellow News Photographers and SAT truck operators who was out covering the Powerhouse Fire.

The call started out simple.  It got worse.

Routing communications in the satellite truck is difficult.  It's more complicated.  There are options (satellite phones) that aren't available in our microwave trucks and Michael Johnson (the truck op) wanted to make sure he had everything squared away.

During the course of the phone call, the SAT truck's generator died.

That's what we usually call a scorched earth situation.

Away from shore power, the truck can't run without the generator.  We ended the call.  Mr. Michael Johnson needed time to focus on troubleshooting.

At this point, I could have gone on with my day.  I didn't.



The fire was burning in an area where a satellite shot was the only option.

I called the assignment desk and asked if they'd like me to come in and run our newer SAT truck. 

Right now, there's only four photographers who are trained on the newer truck.  One was on vacation; one was out of town; the third might have been available, but it was me who was on the phone and I was just a quick shower away from jumping into my van and heading into work.

The writing was kind of on the wall.



This was the way things went.

The station took me up on my offer.  I showered and drove in, grabbed the new SAT truck and headed up towards the fire.

In terms of flames, this day was quite different from my Friday.



The fire had burned overnight and was now in much more accessible areas.

On Friday I was measuring my distance from open flames in miles.




We were measuring our distance from the flames in feet (and inches) on Saturday.



It looks dangerous because it is.

I wouldn't want to underestimate the potential for the fire to surprise us, so we're working very carefully.  As long as I have a clear route to safety, I don't worry too much about the danger.



I do worry about the soot and smoke.  It makes it difficult to see and breathe and some of the embers are still hot when they touch your skin.

This day I don't play around with putting mask and goggles on.



We find a safe spot to set up for our live shot.  Downed power lines prevent us from getting any further ahead of the fire.



For the next few hours we do our job, but watch as the fire alternates between lighting up the area and leaving us in darkness.

Bugs are flying everywhere.  We try to keep the van doors closed so they don't swarm around the lights inside.



I can't speak for what other people feel or think when they witness a fire of this magnitude.  For me, there's a clear sense of the power of fire.

It amazes me and I've covered a few of these, so it's not as if this is my first time seeing the destructive capability of a wildfire.

Sure, it's very humbling, but at the same time your adrenaline is pumping and you're absolutely on the edge because every instinct you have is telling you how much better sense it would make to head away from the fire instead of standing there in its' path with a camera doing live shots.

Nerves of steele?

Nah.  I was making time and a half for coming in on my day off.

Cha-CHING!

My Friday at the Powerhouse Fire

This is my view as I'm heading towards work.  Not the office.  Work.



I'm not even on the clock yet, but I already have my assignment and I figure I might as well head on up the road.



I'm covering the Powerhouse Fire and I'm supposed to meet up with our crews about ten miles up San Francisquito Canyon Road, North and East of the Santa Clarita area.



The fire was burning and doing a lot of damage to the brush, but it was burning in a remote canyon that we couldn't get to in our news vehicles.

Flames were seen earlier in the day, but I was catching the tail end of the fire as it burned through.



Lots of smoke in the distance, but not much for the background of our live shot.

Folks who owned property in the area were glad to see the fire pass without doing much damage to structures.



Yeah, me too.



I mean, it would suck to lose your home in a fire, so I don't want anyone to suffer that kind of loss.



On the other hand, I'm out there in the middle of nowhere, I'd kind of like to have something to put on TV besides the reporter.

Maybe some warm orange glow at least.

I had a joke to end the post, but it was in really bad taste.

Rubbing Elbows +One

I'm comfortable being behind the scenes and observing.  I don't (usually) attend social or charity functions unless I'm running a video camera.



One weekend a while back, my lovely wife, as a part of her job (although I suspect also just for fun), needed to make an appearance at a charity event.



You could look at me as her driver, her escort (hey, now doesn't that sounds kind of risqué) or just as her husband-in-tow).

Any way you look at it, I was there along with my wife and suddenly I was being invited to mingle and partake of the food and drink being provided to the well-to-do of Los Angeles society.



The setting was quite amazing.  An older hotel on the West side of MacAthur Park, the building is well restored, but serves as a location for other than its' original purpose (Whoa, sorry for getting a little wordy there. It ain't a hotel anymore).

My lovely wife knew many of the attendees and recognize many more.



It was a "taste of" event and many restaurants were serving frustrating (to me) snippets and samples of their representative dishes.



We ate, I drank, we socialized with some of the people my wife interacts with in the course of her job with LAUSD.

At the end of the day, I never had to get a sound bite and I didn't have to ship video.

Later that day, my body craved a chili-dog.  I guess a News Photographer can take a day off, but he's (me) still a News Photographer.

Happy Monday.  Anybody want to hear about my weekend?

Springs Fire: Part Two

It was a very long day on the Springs fire.



I started out working with a reporter and eventually got shifted over into a satellite truck. We always have more photographers than SNG operators, so on big stories I often end up with SNG duties.

It's nice to be needed.



But it doesn't matter how good I am, if I can't get to the reporter that needs to get on the air.



I was more inland in the Newbury Park area, but the fire had burned all the way to the coast.



Two of our best guys (Joel Fallon and Carl Stein) were there with Reporter Randy Paige, but the terrain was less than microwave friendly.



They wanted Randy on TV for the top of the 10pm newscast and it was already after 9:00pm.  With help from Photographer John Vincent, I broke down the shot we were running for Reporter Jeff Nguyen, stowed the dish and started racing towards the coast.



It's night.  The roads are mostly closed and I'm trying to rush without being unsafe.  Twice I had to stop for road closures and to explain to law enforcement where the hell I think I'm going.

It didn't help that I wasn't so sure myself.



With my iPhone GPS leading the way (and also being a constant reminder that I wasn't going to make the top of the ten), I did the best I could and managed to land the truck right in the middle of an active fire area.



Randy and Joel had driven South to a point where they could feed back video, but decided to take the chance that I'd be set up and ready by the time they drove back.



Carl and I managed to place our trucks in a relatively safe spot for the live shot.  I popped the dish and found the bird while Carl connected cables and established IFB.



Smoke and ash filled the air.  It stung my eyes and made it difficult to work and breathe (so I just worked and tried not to breathe).

Joel and Randy got back to where we were setting up.  Randy stood in front of the camera and we went live.



The fire burned on, we went live a couple of times and tweaked the shot a bit between hits.



We were finally done for the night, but still stopped along PCH to shoot video for the morning crews.  I can't tell you how much driving by the open flames on the empty road is a totally surreal experience.

Let me also mention it really felt great to finally clear the smoke and haze and breathe again.



We drove back along the coast and at one point I could see the fire blazing on the hillside and the surf crashing onto the beach.

That's something you don't see every day.

Springs Fire: Part One

I'm clearing out as many of the draft posts as I can before the end of May (which is pretty close).



Out in the Oxnard/Camarillo/Ventura area with a microwave truck and a reporter.  We wound up all over the place, including this chemical fire that was a part of the original blaze.



Lots of waiting and wandering around.



Not a lot of options to get microwave signals established in this area and we were overcrowded with crews trying to get somewhere safe to set up for live shots.



Even Josh Rubenstein and the Mobile Weather Lab were in the area covering the fire.

The Twitter Queen, Suraya Fadel, was also part of the group of news people working to get the fire coverage actually on the air.



I eventually wound up in a neighborhood where I could get a microwave signal established.



We had plenty of company from the other stations who were in pretty much the same boat as us.



The fire got pretty close to homes and I watched from a safe distance.  We would have gotten closer, but the fire fighters did not want our vehicles blocking their access.

I can understand that.



The last thing I want to do is try to explain to my bosses why someone's home burned down and our vehicles somehow managed to prevent the fire fighters from doing their jobs.

It might look like we were missing the best shots, but things heated up even more for me after the sun went down.

"Springs Fire: Part Two" is coming up.